


Our Halcyon Days

by jumpstarts



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 13:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17767676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpstarts/pseuds/jumpstarts
Summary: Yunho always kept his promises.





	Our Halcyon Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittylovesbambi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittylovesbambi/gifts), [Shimruto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shimruto/gifts).



> this fic was written in some sort of feverish dream state at ungodly hours and probably would never see the light if not for ching and lana. :) happy valentine's day, peeps!

 

.

 

Changmin picks a book off the shelves built into the wall, one he hadn’t thought about in a while. It's easy to lose track when he keeps buying them in bulk, when there’s always boxes arriving at odd hours from bookstores all around the world. Changmin sifts through the yellowing pages and notices that the bookmark had been moved, slightly bent at a corner.

He smiles. Yunho isn’t much of a reader.

There are circles around paragraphs and crooked lines underneath words, scribbles in red ink over the side of the pages. Changmin finds his reading glasses in a drawer, wrapped in careful folds of a handkerchief and he sinks into the couch, tucks his legs into comfortable angles as he slowly turns the pages.

_How can the old man understand cats? Why cats?? I don't get this one at all. Why can't you read comics or something. :(_

Changmin writes _hyung, it’s your fault for choosing to read Kafka_ in blue fineliner, right underneath Yunho's haphazard penmanship. He smooths a hand over the page and adds _buy your own books next time_ for good measure.

The news drone in the background, quiet and solemn.  
  
  
.

 

 _The first time you saw Yunho, he’s talking to someone else and you’re lost. All the hallways looked the same and they seemed to lead to different places that required clearance you’re not sure you possessed. You hesitated long enough that you caught his eyes and he excused himself, sent her off so he could make his way towards you. There’s a softness in his smile that made you wish you’ve known him a lot longer._  
  
_"You need help?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. His hair was longer back then. Sleek black. He's wearing a cadet uniform, but his stripes were of a darker colour. Marking him as the property of a higher order in a different division. “Are you new?”_

_You nodded, clutching your tablet harder. “First day. I'm supposed to be in Quadrant 12 Alpha?”_

_He raised an eyebrow. “Operator, huh? Well, that’s in another building. You must’ve missed a few turns down there.” There’s that soft smile again, fond as if you were not strangers. “C’mon, I'll show you the way. I'm Jung Yunho, Cavalry First Class.”_

_You almost tripped over your own foot at first, surprised by his generosity, but managed to match his large strides. “S-Shim Changmin.”_

_The smile widened, dark eyes crinkling. “Nice to meet you, Shim Changmin.”_

 

.

 

Changmin sips his coffee, newspaper propped open over his knees. Most have already switched to electronic news – quicker updates, more interactive – but he likes running his fingers over paper too much to abandon the old habit. The room is windowless, sparse furniture to match the sterilised white of the wall, the floor, everything else. He reads the headline, tiny prints that repeat the same thing over and over again.

_The war is going to be won. We are at the verge of victory._

Only that nobody is winning, people are dying at an alarming rate and an armistice is imminent. The only way out. Changmin rinses the mug and places it inside the cupboard. Next to another, identical except for a doodle of something that looks vaguely like a cat on its white porcelain. Changmin's mug holds a very loose rendition of a deer, with a misshapen heart right next to it. His eyes linger on the two, side by side, for a second before he closes the cupboard.

The AI System reminds him of doctor appointments, a physical and trips to the music store, that secondhand bookstore in the other side of town. Changmin downloads everything to his comm and opens a folder marked _videolog_. Yunho's logs are never properly tagged. Changmin used to remind him to at least provide the date to make it easier for their archiver to compile everything, but Yunho never does listen. He smiles in fond exasperation as he taps a link that promises a ' _Really Sunny Day!_ ' instead.

The holographic projector snaps to life, takes a half-second to recalibrate. Changmin blinks when he finds Yunho's face too close to the visual camera. There's a lapse of silence as Yunho shifts and readjusts (something clatters in the background), before he seems to have found a comfortable perch.

" _Changdol!_ " Yunho waves, enthusiastic as always. Changmin stifles the urge to wave back. It's ridiculous how Yunho always looks at the camera as if he’s staring straight at Changmin. Never fails to make his chest clench with longing. " _I miss you. I miss you so much I wish I can fly back home right now, but we’re marching into Bordeaux in two days and captain said he’ll only approve my leave if I come back in one piece. Oh, don’t worry! We're just doing recon for now. Boring stuff. Remember how much you like that wine from—_ "

Changmin puts the video on mute. He spends the morning doing crossword puzzles in relative silence, catching glimpses of Yunho (narrating and gesturing – always smiling) on infinite loop.

 

.

 

_“Why does it have to be you?”_

_Yunho took your hands in his, twining your fingers together until they’re an incomprehensible tangle. The smile he so often wore faltered and he looked older all of a sudden, like you’re breaking his heart instead of the other way around. You wanted to tell him to stay, wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair. That there were others who could’ve fought for the country. Anyone else who wasn’t him._

_Wasn’t someone you had promised ‘forever’ and ‘ever’._

_“You know why,” he said. You wished he hadn’t done so well in his simulations, but Yunho always gave a hundred and ten percent in everything. That’s why you loved him. That's why it hurt to love him. “It won’t be long. They say we’re months away from breaking through.”_

_“Then I'll go too.” He inhaled sharply and his grip tightened. You didn’t wince, even as your bones shifted. “We’ll go together.”_

_“You can’t.” Yunho frowned. “Changmin, they need you here. You're the most experienced operator this side of the divide—”_

_“They better find someone else because I'm not letting you go alone!”_

_It's too loud, too desperate. You're breathing hard and your chest felt like it’s about to explode, too small to hold the enormity of your grief. Yunho's eyes had gone wide at your outburst, but he’s quick to soothe. He touched your cheek, gently. If his fingertips came away wet, you pretended to not notice._

_“Changdol-ah, listen to me.” You listened, only because you never refused him anything. “I'd feel a lot better to know that you’re in mission control, overseeing this. That you’ll bring me home to you.” He kissed your knuckles, soft lips grazing skin. Asking for something you didn’t want to relinquish. But he knew your weakness, he always did. “Promise me?”_

 

.

 

"Hey."  
  
Changmin looks up and grins when he sees a bright red scarf twirled around the bottom half of Siwon's face. "I haven’t seen you around for a while, hyung."  
  
"We’ve all been busy." Siwon slides into the crook across the table. The cafe plays a love song, something preserved from decades ago, and Siwon hums along. "How are you holding up?"  
  
"Good," Changmin replies. He's relieved that his voice doesn’t crack. Much. It’s a thin ice to tread, so he steers them away from the deeper end. "What have you been doing?"  
  
"Helping out with the war effort." That could’ve meant anything and everything. Changmin has already lost his place in the Military Atrium, his access to Operations and it still stings to be kept in the dark. Siwon orders a sandwich. His voice is quiet when he says, "I heard about what happened in Bordeaux."

Changmin orders another cup of coffee. “…They’re wrong. I know they’re wrong and they won’t listen to me.”

He hates sympathy, so he doesn’t look at Siwon until their order arrives. They drink and eat in silence, weighed down by a hole carved out into a familiar silhouette. Siwon has known Yunho far longer, but he’s always been closest to Changmin. And Changmin would’ve been fine with saying goodbyes in as few words as possible, but Siwon spies the flat parcel. Wrapped in brown paper, close to Changmin's elbow. He makes another attempt at conversation when he should’ve known better. Changmin almost resents him then.

"New book?"

He nods. He wishes Siwon would stop talking.

“Let me guess, historical fiction?"

"It's—" Changmin flicks a glance at the parcel. "Yunho said he wants to start reading graphic novels."

Siwon's smile is a slow, mournful approximation of the real thing.

 

.

 

_It's different sharing a space with someone who wasn't actually there anymore. When you woke up, the house was quiet and empty. Clean. There was maintenance scheduled every week, but despite the crisp lemon scent of cleaning agents and spotless marbles, you still saw indentations of Yunho all over the place. Some days, that was the only things that kept you going._

_It’s not long after he’s gone, drafted to fight a war half a world away, that you realised: Yunho had read your books._

_You found your bookmarks in pages you didn't remember reading. Sometimes, you found bookmarks that were not yours slipped into the pages. One time, he left a handwritten note inside **The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn** about how much he liked kissing you, how much he liked the way you say his name. It's incongruent to the subject matter of the book and it’s entirely, bizarrely Yunho that you laughed as you read the note._

_You kept it. You find more notes in more books and you kept all of them in a box on your bedside table. You wrote him poems in return, sonnets limericks haikus, but you kept those poems with his notes._

_Hidden. Your own personal secrets._

_You liked to think of it as conversations, from one twilight zone to another._

_You thought Yunho would find that funny as well._

 

.

 

Changmin squeezes the graphic novel between  _A_ _Midsummer Night's Dream_ and a leather-bound journal on surviving zombie apocalypse. It juts out in awkward angles, bright colours and too-large word exclaiming ' _HULK!_ '. It doesn't look like it belongs in the neat, ordered world of Changmin's shelves, but that’s what others had told him when they found out that he’s marrying Yunho. A private ceremony, in a garden where the air was sweet with the scent of spring. They both wore dark grey suits, a white magnolia pinned to Yunho’s chest and a miniature bouquet of baby’s breath on Changmin’s.

It had started raining before the priest could pronounce them husband and husband.

Changmin kissed the laughing curve of Yunho’s mouth anyway. They slow-danced in the rain, hands clasped tightly together and whispering promises to each other.

 _Forever and ever._  

He flicks off the lights, climbs the stairs and gets into the too-large bed. Touches the ring on his finger as he says a quick prayer, the bracelet around his wrist as he says another prayer.

He spends the night staring at the ceiling, waiting.

And waiting. And waiting.

 

.

 

 _"We haven’t received any news from the front line since you were disconnected, but we believe that his regiment was ambushed on their way back to base."_  
  
_You curled your fingers into fists, hated that your nails were ragged and bitten. "Did you find his body?"_  
  
_"No. It’s impossible to retrieve—"_  
  
_"Then he’s not dead." You should’ve said ‘they’. There were other families waiting for their loved ones, but you didn’t have the energy to care. You're only ever concerned about one man. “He’s still alive somewhere out there and you’re doing jackshit to get him back.”_  
  
_The man shook his important-looking papers at you. His briefcase was black over the cornflower yellow tablecloth, the colour Yunho had picked. Said it reminded him of summer, of that time you went to the sea for your first year anniversary. "Changmin-sshi, I'm just the messenger."_  
  
_Your birthday’s in February, weeks apart from Yunho’s with Valentine’s squeezed in between. It's a commercial holiday, but Yunho loved it in all its glorious cheesiness so you learnt to love it as well. Flowers and chocolate and elaborate dinners, the whole nine yards. You already bought him a present, wrapped neatly and hidden in the socks drawer. He was supposed to be home three days ago. “I know,” you said, sharply. He's an unwanted guest, but you still made him tea that he didn’t drink. "Thank you for your time."_  
  
_He sighed. Stood up and lowered his head into a semblance of an apology. "I'm also here to inform you that your status as ‘operator’ is temporarily suspended. Considering your personal loss, the council decided it’s best for you to take a few months off." Another tip of the head. “Good day, Changmin-sshi.”_  
  
_You watched him head for the door, rubbing your thumb over the silver band around your finger._

_Yunho said he would come home in time to celebrate Valentine’s together._

_And Yunho always kept his promises._

 

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**END**

 

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**Author's Note:**

> i'm also on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ahjusshis) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/ahjusshis)!


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